


Loren of the Rock

by ariel2me



Series: House Lannister [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 13:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20408518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariel2me/pseuds/ariel2me
Summary: He was Loren the First and then Loren the Last, and in between, he fought the Targaryens and lived to tell the tale, a fate he sometimes considered to be worse than death.(Written for Lannister Appreciation Week on Tumblr. Day 2: Pre-ASOIAF Characters)





	Loren of the Rock

_Near four thousand men had burned that day, among them King Mern of the Reach. King Loren had escaped, and lived long enough to surrender, pledge his fealty to the Targaryens, and beget a son, for which Tyrion was duly grateful. (A Game of Thrones)_

_So, he had lived long enough to be dismayed by himself. […] And this, perhaps, was their final triumph over him. Instead of killing him, they had allowed him to live, and by allowing him to live, they had killed him. (The Noise of Time, Julian Barnes)_

* * *

He was Loren the First and then Loren the Last, and in between, he fought the Targaryens and lived to tell the tale, a fate he sometimes considered to be worse than death. 

*

Prince Loren of House Lannister had been born, bred and trained for glory. His father was an accidental king, the unpromising and overlooked third son who ascended to the throne after his own father and two older brothers had all perished of the same fever in the space of a fortnight. He promptly did his duty and wed his Lannister cousin, a lady with ruddy cheeks, robust health, a formidable will, and hair as golden as the sun – all the traits that he himself was well aware he lacked.

The unspoken bargain struck by Loren’s father with his subjects during his reign was this: _I may not be all that you wish for in a king, but I promise you that my son and heir will be everything and more. He will be the first of many King Lorens of the Rock, for he will bring such honor and glory to the name that generations after generations of Lannisters would clamor to name their eldest sons after him._

*

He died in a timely manner, this accidental king; not too early that his son was still a minor who would require a regent, but not too late that his son (and his bannermen) would lose patience waiting for the reign of King Loren the First to begin. 

The Kingdom of the Rock cheered for its new king, for the young king who promised a glorious future for the kingdom, a future as golden as his hair under the sun.

None of them saw the dragons coming. None of them could have predicted that quite soon, Loren the First would become Loren the Last. Loren the Last, the _last_ King of the Rock. Loren the Last, the _last_ king from House Lannister. Loren the Last, the _last_ lion to wear a crown and to reign over a kingdom. 

*

His decision to leave Casterly Rock and to fight the battle in an open field would be argued and debated over for years and years to come. After the battle, Visenya Targaryen would declare that had Loren chosen to remain inside the Rock, even dragonflame could not have defeated him. Those words Loren publicly scorned – after all, he pointed out, King Harren had burned and roasted inside his supposedly impregnable castle – but privately, he wondered if there was some truth to the allegation.

There was no castle richer, bigger, grander, more well-defended and well-fortified than Casterly Rock in the Seven Kingdoms. He had always taken great pride in this fact. Yet it had seemed cowardly to him at the time, to hide behind the walls of his castle. He was the golden lion born, bred and trained for glory, and upon his coronation as king, he had promised a glorious future for his kingdom. Where was the glory in hiding, in not facing your enemy in open battle? Where was the glory in waiting for your enemy to attack, instead of meeting them head-on?

The recklessness of youth, combined with the overweening pride of the Lannisters. He would be hearing this reproach over and over again, after his defeat.

*

Perhaps he should have seen the golden wheat as a portent of disaster. The sight of fields after fields of wheat, swaying with the breeze, as golden as the lion on his sigil, had lifted his spirit and boosted his already sky-high confidence before the battle. 

It caught fire quickly, _very _quickly, those treacherous fields of golden wheat, those carriers of dragonflame that turned into walls of fire, trapping screaming and desperate men inside. _His_ men, those who had put their faith and their trust in him, in their golden lion, in their king who had promised them gold and glory.

For the rest of his life, Loren would be haunted by the sound of the screaming more than anything else, more than the smell of burning flesh or the sight of scorched bodies. In his dreams, they were always calling his name, one and all, his screaming and desperate men.

_King Loren. Loren of the Rock. Loren the First. Loren the Glorious. Loren the Golden._

*

In the first blush of self-pity, after kneeling as a king and rising as a mere lord, after his Kingdom of the Rock became a mere province of a Targaryen realm, he thought, that by allowing him to live, the gods had killed the legend he could have become, the valiant and defiant lion who fought to the bitter end, who could be said to have died with a sword in his hand and a curse on his lips, like Argilac Durrandon the last Storm King. 

Later, he would come to suspect that the truth was even more appalling and unbearable than this, that worst of all, they had killed who he was to himself. They had killed the man he had always believed himself to be, wholeheartedly, without any reservation. He had been born, bred and trained for glory. He would be the first of many King Lorens of the Rock. He had never doubted this, had never considered it to be anything other than his birthright as a proud lion of Lannister.

*

Later still, he would try to convince himself, and others, “At least I fought. I fought, and I survived. Who else could say the same?”

At least he _fought_, and he _survived_. No other king in the Seven Kingdoms could say the same. The King in the North bended his knee before he fought a single battle. The boy king of the Eyrie had his knee bended for him by his lady mother and regent. The other kings who had chosen to fight had all perished, either in the field of battle or inside their castle. 

He did not wish to hear about Dorne, about how the Dornish still successfully resisted the Targaryens. The Martells were never kings, only princes and princesses, he would scoff, stridently and insistently, sounding all too defensive even to his own ears.

*

It was true that he bended the knee to Aegon Targaryen afterwards, but that was done to ensure that House Lannister would remain the preeminent power in the westerlands. There were plenty of overmighty bannermen waiting in the wings, just itching for the opportunity to make Casterly Rock and the westerlands their own, had Loren not bended his knee after his defeat. He had swallowed his pride, and the pride of the Lannisters, for the _future_ of House Lannister.

A future that was nowhere near as glorious and as golden as the one he had promised on the day of his coronation, admittedly, but the best he could salvage under the circumstances, he would point out, to the complainers and the dissenters.

His own heart was secretly the biggest dissenter of all, who could not be truly convinced by any of the arguments he made to convince others. 

*

Had he _not _survived, had he perished in the battle that singers and storytellers had taken to calling the Field of Fire (a lackluster name that failed to sufficiently express the ghastly horror of that battle, he thought), his son and heir would not have been in existence. When the black dog came late at night to forcefully remind Loren of all that he had lost, he would make his way into his son’s room, and he would kiss the sleeping boy’s golden hair to remind himself of that fact.

Still, Loren could not help but wonder how his son would think of him, when the boy was old enough to think for himself. Would he be grateful, that his father had lived long enough to sire him? Or would he be contemptuous of the father who had lost the kingdom and the crown that should have been his birthright as a proud lion of Lannister? 


End file.
